It is strange being a Stay-at-home-Dad. For instance a chant of "ihopeiwinatoaster, ihopeiwinatoaster" floating up the basement steps. My nearly seven [eight] (now nine) ((now ten)) [[eleven]] {twelve} year-old twin boys concoct, devise, arrange, invent, write, say, imagine and dream the damndest things. Things that make me wonder. Ideas and stories that I may think on for days after I encounter them. I'll share some here. They made me do this.
Essential. Childhood. Nonsense. Explained.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Mazes and Spirals and Such

Sometimes life wants to talk all at once to me and, unlike memories, listening takes time. A million memories may flood all at once at the scent of a tar road or the sight of a crescent moon, but sometimes I can't hear life's soft soliloquies and whispered asides when they seem to come all at once. I am sorry for that, and, I forgive myself for that. The notes and chords, colors and textures, fragrances and flavors I miss in a day, will, I hope, return when I have more time to entertain them.

About this time every year I must get rid of all the leaves that pile up between the fences. I used to rake them, as I did as a boy, and pile them in high mounds and let the boys jump in them as we have in the past, as I did as a boy. But, I don't anymore. It is an unspoken but immutable fact that leaves make awful landing pads, you know it, I know it, and yet...

Growing up we used to rake the leaves and jump on them, and then one time, at maybe eleven or twelve, I landed flat on my back and laid gasping for air as my friends looked on. I am lucky I didn't break my back. I am pretty sure we burned the leaves in giant bonfires, with gasoline and used motor oil, from there on out... seemed safer.

Here at home, I usually sort of chop them all up with my tractor and then use my push mower with a leaf catcher and just sweep them all up. A couple of years ago the boys were watching and, as I went to dump the bag in the mulch pile, they started running around in the paths the little mower had made. It looked like fun, and I somehow remembered it being fun, so I made some more and they imagined and ran and screamed and laughed. I did it last year, too, but there was a strong wind and the paths didn't last.

Yesterday, I got to thinking, and it was a calm day, and I wanted to be outside, and I heard a fragment of what life was saying to me and, well... I did this:

I made a lawn maze.

It had a nifty little dead-end spiral:

And two young warriors came and battled in the golden setting sun:

This morning the wind was whispering up high so, before the paths were blown into memory, I went out and took a few more pictures as the sun came up:

Around here we don't really get into Halloween so much. Oh, we carve pumpkins and get our candy, but it is not that important. I would say, though, that making a maze in the leaves of the back yard may be something I do for years to come.

You never know what might happen when you listen to the wind.

Lately, there hasn't been too much coming from the back seat so this'll have to do, today.

From Bill's "... things you don't expect to see scribbled on your notes on your desk ..."

It is sad how funny I think this is...

Well, that's all for today. Thanks for dropping in and come back if you get a chance.

I think next year I might make a giant spiral in the lawn. You know why? It was fun, I think that's why I wanted to share it with you, that and the fact that the boys were really thrilled by it all and I want them to remember that someday, later, when life isn't always as thrilling.

1 comment:

Leaves do make awful landing spots. I think the thing that really nails that point is the deception. Leaves look like they should be perfect and yet they never hold our weight, reminds me of what happens when you hold water in the palm of your hand.

You want to squeeze it so you can really feel it but when you do the water runs away as fast as you can and the tighter you squeeze the faster it escapes from between your fingers.